It’s Christmas Eve, 1971. Juliane Koepcke, 17, has already been waiting for seven hours with her mother at the airport. After celebrating her graduation last night, it was finally time for them to fly home for Christmas, to a research facility in the Peruvian jungle. Their anticipation of a festive family celebration overshadows their upset at the delay as they board the aircraft loaded with Christmas presents. The machines are humming as they take off, unaware of the tragedy the storm ahead would bring.
All of a sudden, the plane gets caught in a thunderstorm. Everything becomes dark, occasionally illuminated by lightning. The last thing Juliane hears is her mother’s calm words, “That is the end, it’s all over.” The next thing she knows, she is in freefall, strapped to her seat, spiralling towards the green of the Amazon rainforest.
Three kilometres she falls, then the impact, and against all odds, she survives with only minor injuries. Following the fall are eleven straining days of fighting for her survival in the rainforest.
What are the odds of surviving not only falling from the sky but also living in the rainforest? Was it luck? Coincidence? Or, after all, a Christmas miracle? Juliane’s story illustrates how, in impasses, unexpected good can arise. And somehow, Christmas is attracting these moments more than any other time of the year.
While most of us will never survive a plane crash, many of us will gather around a holiday table. We gather in a time where people are more receptive to acts filled with warmth and humanity, as history has consistently proven. Although the mood may shift as the evening progresses, someone brings up war, politics and eventually your estranged uncle drops his controversial opinion, there might be a point in keeping your cool. Every moment carries an opportunity for a miracle, even your dinner table. It doesn’t have to be about survival. Human kindness, perspective, or even music, might be the very reason the next one appears.
The Christmas Truce of 1914 is a striking example of peace and humanity amidst a world marked by war. On Christmas morning, the trenches on the Western Front got unnervingly quiet. Were they planning an attack? After a while, a Christmas carol reached the British soldiers’ ears. It was the Germans, instead of bellowing gunfire at the Brits, they just sang peaceful Christmas songs followed by a shouted message: “Good morning, Englishman, a merry Christmas, you no shoot, we no shoot”. Hesitant at first, both sides ended up on the battlefield, shaking hands, laughing together, exchanging gifts and food, taking pictures and playing a game of football. In the midst of one of the darkest periods in modern history, humanity and kindness prevailed, uniting enemies by decree. They were all human, longing for family, warmth and comfort at home. This was not a miracle made of luck or coincidence; it was a deliberate choice fuelled by humanity.
However, miracles don’t always come from tragedy; some arise simply from a change in perspective. NASA did exactly that with its Apollo 8 mission. On Christmas Eve 1968, the mission’s astronauts became the first humans to orbit the moon, sending back pictures such as the famous “Earthrise” photo, while simultaneously reading from the first book of Genesis. A simple photograph transformed the human perspective on life and the earth forever. They introduced a new era of space travel, with Apollo 8 being the first mission to the moon, which returned home successfully.
The astronauts later said, “We were told that on Christmas Eve, we would have the largest audience that had ever listened to a human voice”
On other occasions, a miracle can be summoned by small acts of creativity and community. “Silent Night”, first performed on Christmas Eve 1818 in a tiny Austrian chapel, illustrates that miracles can take place in the smallest, simplest moments. Europe had endured a rough period of climate change, and the aftershocks of the Napoleonic Wars were still palpable in society.
On that December night, luck did not seem to be on Franz Xaver Gruber’s side; the organ broke, forcing him to perform it on a guitar. A broken organ, a broken country. Yet, in this chaotic situation, he managed to debut one of the most famous Christmas carols, which, since then, has carried peace and comfort across centuries. More than 200 years later, I cannot think of a better song to get you into a proper Christmas mood. It smells of pine and homemade cookies, emanating a warm feeling. In 2011, UNESCO even included it on its Intangible Cultural Heritage List, founded on its “belief in world peace, the transcending of all boundaries, hope, and unity,” creating an “everlasting message”.
Even as the family takes their seat around the table, still in good faith and hoping for the best, you never know which controversial statements will be unleashed in just a few hours. Yet, amidst the tension, the Christmas spirit persists, carrying hope. This Christmas, watch out for miracles, even small ones. Perhaps, a miracle will befall you when you least expect it.
Whether it’s through courage, kindness, or a shift in perspective, Christmas has a way of spreading hope, regardless of how bleak circumstances might be. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that miracles actually are all around.
